


Greeting the Dawn

by Ashtence



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, I honestly have no idea how to tag this..., Jeonghan-centric, Peaceful?, Well I tried, descriptive, introspective?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtence/pseuds/Ashtence
Summary: Sometimes...you don't need a reason to keep going everyday, other than the fact that you made it to the present. There may seem to be no reason to keep going, but there's also no reason to stop is there? You've already made it this far, why stop now?Based off Jeonghan's teaser pic: https://twitter.com/pledis_17/status/1014173172566929408





	Greeting the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This fic really is PURELY based on just Jeonghan's teaser alone. Please read it with that image in mind.  
> Really I wanted to write a fic around my favourite teaser photo as of now.
> 
> I would like those who read this to really try to imagine it in their heads, and follow the last action described. I want this fic to be something that can be calming, that is something you all can come back to read when you need to take that breath before you take the next step forward.

Blankets ruffle and the soft feather-like feel of the cotton rubs against skin. It’s tugged tighter together, bunched up in knots as warm heat courses through the room. Through the air, through the floor boards and through the sheets. The warmth is not hated. It’s a light heat that seems almost soft. Yet it indicates that dawn has arrived at the doorstep; that morning has broken onto a new day. 

Hands tug the sheets higher, attempting an escape from the sunlight that beams through the window, softened by the translucent curtains. The effort to run only now causes two feet to be forced to brace that slight heat from the sun. 

Realising that whatever efforts made are futile; day has come, more ruffling ensues and weight is being lifted off the couch. 

_The couch again, it’s becoming a habit of his it seems. It’s comfortable though. Soft and cozy…sometimes even better than his own bed. ___

__The two feet lightly touch the floor, indeed they aren’t cold this morning. It seems the bedroom slippers are missing again though._ _

__Pushing off the warm couch and soft blankets, the feet make light but purposeful steps away, the place of rest left unmade. A sharp yet quiet sound of metal hitting porcelain rings through the apartment minutes later as a harsh sound of water flows._ _

_He always did like his milk in the morning hot, despite however weird others may find it. That hot water pot sure is loud though, he would change it if he could._

____As porcelain hits wood, steady yet heavier steps are now made and the window swings open with probably more force than necessary._ _ _ _

____The gentle breeze that flows in is welcome. It’s slightly chilly but it balances off the growing warmth in the room._ _ _ _

_It’s not cold enough yet to cool down his milk. ___

______Leaving the curtains drawn and window open, the cushioning of the armrest of the couch sinks down slightly under the weight that’s suddenly placed on it._ _ _ _ _ _

______A leg lifts to form a little support for the warm cup of milk that has now been collected from the window sill it was once sitting at. The added height of the armrest causes the other foot to lift off the ground unintentionally._ _ _ _ _ _

______The fingers around the cup handle tighten as two tired eyes look down, glazed and blank._ _ _ _ _ _

_The past few days, nights, have been tiring. He feels oh so exhausted. His muscles ache from the stress that has built up. No number of pillows can make his couch anymore comfy than it already is. Tight knots are making an appearance in every fibre of his body. He has long forgotten what an appetite is, what it feels like to put food in the mouth and savour the flavours. What it means to hunger, what it means to feel. Everything is now muted. Sound, taste, touch, sight, hearing. ___

_All he knows is his consciousness, from that, he can’t be anything but alive. ___

__________An arm takes weight off the armrest when it’s placed backwards and weight is shifted towards it.  
The two eyes look up and a breath is taken in deep. Lungs fill and knots in the muscle are tugged a little with the slight expansion of the ribs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_He’s alive. And he will keep on living. No matter what. ___

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the story and have a wonderful day ahead! I apologise for any grammatical or spelling mistakes! :3  
> *Written in British English*
> 
> To Seren, My dear dear friend, I've no idea if you are reading this, but I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed someone. You always checked in on me and asked about me, but I never asked you, especially when you were quiet online. I should have checked in on you, I should have asked how you were. But I didn't, like the fool I was.  
> I'm so so sorry and I regret it so much. I'm writing this fic with hope that if you read it, you can use it to help calm and steady yourself when things get too much. It's not much I know and maybe I'm overstepping boundaries but I really hope it will help in some way.  
> Love you dear, hope to hear from you soon <3


End file.
